


Perchance To Dream

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Lucifer, Top Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is nothing if not persistent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perchance To Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2009.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. About Him. He tossed and turned and then finally headed to the bathroom. When he’d finished Sam came out and reached for his phone. He flicked through his contacts. Normally he’d talk to Dean…No, scrap that. Before Ruby he’d have talked to Dean but now…he flicked down to Bobby’s name, almost selected it, but then thought again. He was trying to make his way on his own, relying on other people wouldn’t help.

He looked back at the bed. The bed where he thought about Jess. Her touch, her comforting presence. How much he missed her. He’d have to tell Dean and Bobby about Lucifer eventually. But for now he would try and get some sleep.

~~~

Of course what actually happened was that he spent the next hour craving to be touched, his erection rubbing painfully against the bed whenever he shifted but he resolutely refused to touch himself.

“I could help you with that,” a soft voice whispered in his ear.

Sam jumped and went to reach for the knife under his pillow, but Lucifer had caught his wrist in a grip that burned.

“I told you, no,” Sam said, trying and failing to pull away.

Lucifer just smiled and Sam swallowed hard. For such a normal looking man the power radiating off him was electrifying.

“Your mind might say one thing Sam, but your heart always says another.”

Sam looked down at his wrist, tried to tell himself that he wasn’t enjoying the way Lucifer’s fingers were skimming over his pulse point.

Lucifer slowly edged closer and tugged at Sam’s arm and though he could see what was happening, what was _going_ to happen, it didn’t stop him from opening up his mouth to Lucifer, letting him lick his way inside, let him press his body flush against Sam’s own until Sam didn’t know where he began and Lucifer ended.

He doesn’t try to fight it. That’s what scares him the most. Sam just goes with it, let’s Lucifer pull him down onto the bed and crawl on top of him, Lucifer’s body feeling strangely weightless, barely there touches leaving deep impressions in his skin.

Lucifer’s kisses against his jaw and neck burn and he tries to pull away, but Lucifer is _there_ , arms holding him close and really, the burn doesn’t feel that bad, it’s just enough to make him gasp, to open up his mouth.

And then they’re kissing again and Sam’s making soft mewling noises in the back of his throat and Lucifer is smiling at him, saying without the need for words that, yes, this is what it means. This is what giving in to Lucifer means.

It’s not saying “yes” exactly, but it’s something very close to it.

Sam shifts, bucks up as Lucifer’s hands drag down his stomach and into his boxers, firm hands touching his erection, claiming what’s his to take.

Sam moans as Lucifer pushes a finger inside of him, no preparation, no warning, the touch sending shockwaves down his spine that aren’t entirely pleasant. He opens his mouth to protest, to say something, anything, but Lucifer put two fingers inside his mouth, uses his own spit to push inside some more.

And god help him, but Sam’s enjoying the pleasure-pain, of just giving in.

He does scream though, when Lucifer pushes deep inside, his cock feeling impossibly thick. Impossibly right.

“Shh, none of that,” Lucifer whispers, planting kisses along Sam’s chest. And then he starts to move, a slow, languid fucking, pushing himself fully into Sam and then pulling back, again and again. He never changes the pace, just keeps up the same infuriating rhythm. His strong hands are on Sam’s hips, stopping him from moving, even though there’s nothing more that he would like right now than to spread himself even wider, to let Lucifer crawl inside of him as far as he can.

But he’s powerless, his aching cock trapped between their bodies, Lucifer staring down at him as if inside his mind, laying him bare.

He arches his neck, tries to look away, counts the tiles on the ceiling. Lucifer draws him back, though, every time. Every time he tries not to stare into Lucifer’s eyes he finds that he’s been staring there all the time.

“Please,” he begs, “please, I just need…”

“Oh, I know what you need,” Lucifer whispers, against his skin, inside his mind, etching his words against Sam’s bones. “I always know exactly what you need.”

He starts to fuck Sam in earnest then. Harsh and violent thrusts that Sam meets as well as he is able. Lucifer is almost not quite smiling above him and Sam really wants Lucifer to show some emotion, some anything. Instead he is like a block of ice, cold and hot to the touch.

“You humans,” Lucifer is saying, though Sam is paying hardly any attention now; he can feel his orgasm approaching, tries to chase after it. “Always so much interest in the pleasures of the flesh. It’s really quite pathetic.”

Sam would point out that Lucifer seems perfectly happy with the arrangement right now, but his orgasm is rippling through him, his body arching off of the bed.

And he is free, the pressure keeping him down is gone and he is coming, coming so hard he can barely stand it….

~~~

Sam wakes with a cry, his body tangled in the sheets of the bed, his cock still hard. He reaches for the light and switches it on. He’s alone in the room. He can’t stop from finishing himself off though, his hand moving rapidly around his erection, his sweat and pre-come providing ample enough lubrication.

It doesn’t take him long to send himself over the edge; he tries to think of Jess as he does, but that’s not the face that he sees.

He feels dirty, and hot, and even now still turned on. He pads awkwardly to the bathroom. He can still feel ghostly fingers wrapped around him. Pressing into him.

“Just a dream,” he murmurs to himself. “Just a stupid dream.”

He looks into the mirror above the sink and freezes. Even in the dim light he can see the teeth marks against his neck and the bruises dotted along his chest. He daren’t look further, certain of what he’ll find there.

He might not say yes to Lucifer. But he’s not sure he’ll be able to say no either.


End file.
